


with a military pension and a medal from the crown

by mothicalcreatures



Category: The Terror (TV 2018)
Genre: Disabled Character, Hurt/Comfort, Injury Recovery, M/M, Permanent Injury
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-12
Updated: 2020-04-12
Packaged: 2021-03-02 02:42:15
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,685
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23607754
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mothicalcreatures/pseuds/mothicalcreatures
Summary: The loss of his right leg would not ruin him. That was what Thomas kept repeating to himself as he lay in his bunk aboard the Enterprise.
Relationships: Captain Francis Crozier/Thomas Jopson
Comments: 2
Kudos: 32





	with a military pension and a medal from the crown

**Author's Note:**

> So this is for the prompt "unreliable at best" for an anon on Tumblr, who asked for something with Crozier or Jopson. 
> 
> I said why not both and proceeded to fill the prompt incredibly loosely with an AU I've had on the brain for a few days now, in which Jopson's old leg injury reopens and causes the loss of the lower half of his leg.
> 
> The title is from "The Cruel Wars" by the Dreadnoughts.

The loss of his right leg would not ruin him. That was what Thomas kept repeating to himself as he lay in his bunk aboard the _Enterprise_. He’d be fine, he’d only lost the leg from the knee down, he’d get by. He always had before… but that was getting increasingly hard to believe. They were due to arrive in Hull in a matter of days, and Thomas still didn’t have the strength to support himself on crutches. He’d have his double pay of course, which would help for a little while, and he supposed there was also the Greenwich Hospital, but living there wouldn’t help him support his sisters, and he certainly didn’t want to become a burden to his family. No, he’d need to find work again once they’d returned. 

“What are you brooding about?” Crozier asked, coming into the small cabin they shared. It was something that Crozier had insisted on once Thomas had been well enough to be released from the sick bay. Well, he hadn’t quite been well enough, but the sick bay was crowded, as was the ship in general, and Crozier had suggested allowing some of the less ill to move into bunks. The ill could be given the bunk and, since the cabins would have to be shared regardless, the healthy individual could sling a hammock in the cabin for themselves.

Captain Ross had agreed and so there had been a quick reshuffling, and Crozier had insisted on sharing his cabin with Thomas. Thomas had tried to argue, but the captain wouldn’t have it, and in truth, Thomas didn’t want to be separated from him, wanting to have every moment he could before they would inevitably part ways.

“I’m not brooding,” Thomas said softly, curling his fist in the sheet. “I’m just… well… thinking about what my future is going to look like now. I can’t say anything I’ve come up with is particularly appealing.”

Crozier frowned for just a moment before sitting down on theedge of the bunk. “Well, I have a proposition for you, if you’ll hear me out.”

Thomas nodded slowly, and Crozier continued. “I will be staying with Sir James when we return, and I would like it very much if you’d join me there.” He reached out to take Thomas’s hand. “It’s a quiet place in the country, and it would likely do you good to recover there without having to worry about finding work again immediately.”

Thomas’s breath hitched and he squeezed Crozier’s hand. “I… I don’t know what to say sir. I wouldn’t want to impose.”

“You wouldn’t be,” Crozier assured him, stroking his thumb over the back of Thomas’s hand. “I’ve already spoken to James.You would be most welcome there. You are incredibly dear to me Thomas, and you went far beyond your required dutiesin taking care of me, please allow me to take care of you now.”

Thomas’s eyes were brimming with tears. He had never assumed that he and Crozier would ever have a relationship that lasted on land, and he’d been content with that. It had never been something they’d discussed, they’d remained vaguely in touch once they returned from Antarctica, but real contact hadn’t been initiated again until Crozier had requested Thomas as his steward again in 1845. But now, after everything they’d been through… “Yes… yes, I’ll go with you.”

Crozier smiled broadly and he leaned in to press a kiss to Thomas’s forehead. That was all it took for Thomas to crumble in a mess of hitching sobs.

Francis cradled Jopson against his chest as the younger man wept. Jopson had always held himself together with aplomb, even in the most trying of circumstances, but every man had a breaking point. It was clear Jopson had assumed that he would not have much by way of support upon their return, but Francis would do everything in his power to see Jopson safe and well. He fully intended to fight tooth and nail to ensure that Jopson received a lieutenants pay, for the time Jopson served as such, as well as a proper pension.

Francis wouldn’t deny Jopson’s desire to find work, Jopson enjoyed his work, but it would him no good to run himself ragged when he needed rest and care.

“Thank you, sir,” Jopson murmured quietly, once his sobs had subsided.

Francis stroked Jopson’s back soothingly. “You’re quite welcome, Thomas.” Then, in an attempt to lighten the mood some, he added. “I’m going to have to beg your forgiveness in advance, for I intend to fuss over you horribly.”

The wet chuckle that slipped from Jopson’s lips felt like an incredible victory.

“I suppose I can tolerate that, sir.”

* * *

Thomas crossed his arms, glaring at Francis from the bed. “No, absolutely not.”

Francis sighed, hand resting on the back of the wheelchair in front of him. “Your arms are still too weak for crutches, a chair would at least give you some freedom to move about. I know it’s not ideal, but you’ve been miserable cooped up in your room.”

Thomas deflated. It was true. It was horrid being confined to a single room. “I don’t mean to be ungrateful.”

“But it’s difficult,” Francis said gently, crossing the room to sit next to Jopson on the bed. “You are fiercely capable, and I know this loss of agency weighs on you, but it will not be forever. You witnessed Thomas Blanky spring back from such an injury, and you will too. Unlike him, you have time to recover and rest properly before putting your bad leg to use again. Though I’m sure he’s complaining just as bitterly now for being laid up a second time, perhaps you can write him and compare notes.”

Thomas gave Francis a small smile. “Perhaps I will. I am sorry capt- Francis.” He sighed. “I’m not sure I’ll ever get used to calling you that, sir.”

“There’s no need to apologize, and it will get easier with time, I’m sure,” Francis said. “Now, are you willing to try the chair?”

Thomas glanced over at the offending chair and sighed. It would be nice to get about, even go outside, though the weather was beginning to get cold (It was still blissfully warm compared to the arctic.

“Yes, I suppose.”

The increased freedom _was_ nice, though it was still irksome that Thomas could not move the chair about much on his own. At the very least he could get out of bed on his own and move from chair to couch on his own. His life had also been made easier by the fact of his room being on the ground floor, meaning the only stairs he had to combat were the ones in the entryways of the house.

Thomas had initially felt very awkward that the Rosses had gone out of their way to convert a downstairs study into a bedroom for him, but Sir James and Lady Ann would not let him apologize for a thing. It became easier once Francis started sharing the room with him, declaring that his knees did not appreciate having to deal with stairs when he was tired. A thinly veiled excuse, it had not been commented on, but there had also never been an offer to move a second bed into the room.

“I thought I would be quick to get rid of this chair when I got on crutches,” Thomas said as he lounged with Francis out by the pond. Hewasn’t in his chair presently, but it was just next to where he sat on the grass with Francis. “I hadn’t quite considered how exhausting using crutches all the time would be.”

“You’ll get better at it,” Francis said, reaching out to brush a stray lock of hair from Thomas’s face. “Or we could always see about getting you a prosthetic. Blanky’s desperate to know what kind you’ll settle on.”

Thomas laughed. “Tell him I haven’t thought about it at all.” He was quiet for a moment and then added. “It would be nice, but a good one would be awfully expensive.”

“We could afford one,” Francis mused. “Perhaps not the fanciest, I hardly think fancy would suit you, but something comfortable and functional certainly.”

“I think I’m all right with the crutches for now, sir,” Thomas said. He didn’t think he’d ever really stop worrying about money, even in his newfound security. He still couldn’t quite believe that Francis had been able to get the Admiralty to give him a lieutenants pay.

“I’ve been thinking,” Francis began. “About what to do when we leave here. In my own fantasies about retirement I’d always imagined getting a little house somewhere remote.”

Something heavy and anxious settled into Thomas’s stomach. Leaving was inevitable, as Francis said, but at the same time it was something Thomas had wished to put off. Perhaps it was foolish of him to allow himself to become so comfortable here.

Francis huffed and grabbed Thomas’s hand. “I see you fretting, stop that.”

Thomas looked down and realized he’d been worrying his nails, a nervous habit from boyhood that he’d somehow picked up again.

“Don’t think for one instant I’ll be leaving you, Tom,” Francis continued softly. “I love you. You’ll not get rid of me so easily. I simply meant to say that my thoughts on retirement may not line up so neatly with how you mightlike to spend the rest of your life. You told me you’d put some thought into opening a tailor shop.”

“Yes, my father was a tailor,” Thomas said. “So I think I could count myself familiar enough with the trade to manage it.”

Francis hummed in thought. “Perhaps we can find someplace that has a shop in the front and a place to live in the back. And it would have to be that, I must insist not living _above_ a shop.”

“That would be nice,” Thomas agreed, smiling. Francis had always been good at finding ways to restore Thomas's spirits, and now more than ever it made the future feel so much less bleak. 

**Author's Note:**

> That sure was a loosely filled prompt, huh. I would defend the "unreliable" theme through the fact that Jopson hasn't fully settled into functioning with a missing limb and also hasn't quiet found his ideal "reliable" disability aide yet. 
> 
> It's a stretch, but I stand by it.


End file.
